


Like Dancing

by Genuinelies



Category: Warcraft (2016), World of Warcraft
Genre: M/M, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-04
Updated: 2016-08-04
Packaged: 2018-07-29 09:40:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7679473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Genuinelies/pseuds/Genuinelies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Khadgar and Anduin find each other at a masquerade after dancing around each other in their daily lives; masks make people brave; they talk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like Dancing

**Author's Note:**

> This is for the lovely [Adalein028](http://adalein028.tumblr.coml) (Tumblr) who gave me the prompt for a masquerade fic. It's short but I hope sweet.

“Khadgar?”

The feminine voice accompanied a knock at his door. Khadgar looked up from his research. Three books lay open in front of him; one was falling apart at the seams and propped together using candlesticks to keep the pages in line, and one had a stain on it that made the text almost illegible. He was trying to cross-reference that one, and make sure the image at the bottom text was really what it looked like – a way to summon elementals with reduced mana burn within a ten-meter radius.

Or, it could be warning the elementals would burn all your mana, and then incinerate a ten-meter radius. It was something of a toss up.

“Come in,” he said, tapping his quill on parchment.

Taria, Queen of Stormwind, entered, and smiled fondly at him when she saw what he was doing. “All Hallow’s Eve is tomorrow night, Khadgar,” she said. “Have you given it any more thought? Coming to the royal masquerade? It’s something of a tradition here, and…we do hope you consider this your home.”

Khadgar frowned uncomfortably, sitting up straighter in the presence of royalty, even though she had never expected formalities from him. He had lived at the castle for a better part of a year while he tried to research and figure out what to do about the problem at Karazhan. The explosion of arcane and fel energies at the tower when he and Lothar – _Anduin,_ he reminded himself - had fought Medivh had allowed all sorts of creatures to take over the place, and for the moment, at least, it was too much for him to handle.

“The Kirin Tor weren’t much for parties,” he laughed uncomfortably.

“No, I imagine they weren’t,” she said. She peered at his bed, at all the pieces of parchment, notes and drawings littering the bed around the books. “Lothar asked if you would be there,” she said, a small quirk to her lips.

Khadgar looked down at a piece of paper with the drawing of a decomposing murloc on it. Early experiments had…not ended well for the test subjects, it seemed. “Oh…well. Um.” He looked up at her. “I don’t have an outfit.”

She laughed, then, a musical but hearty sound. “Come with me.”

He fiddled with his quill, debating, then curiosity won out. He followed her as she swept out of the room and down the hall. “I think you’ll like it,” she called over her shoulder. “And…you just might catch someone’s eye.”

#

Anduin Lothar, King Regent and Supreme Commander of Stormwind’s armies, could not get his damned shirt on.

It might have been the two glasses of mead he’d already consumed, or it might have been the fact that in the past, his son had been around to help him dress.

Or it might have been the fact that Karos had told him with a sly wink that Taria had been seen commissioning a costume that was most certainly not for herself.

_Maybe,_ he thought. _Maybe tonight._

_Maybe tonight he and Khadgar would have more to talk about than fel and Orcs and the future of the Alliance._

It was funny how you could see a person every day, for at least one meal and in between, and still feel like there was a chasm between you. He was hoping that perhaps a costume and some alcohol might make one or the both of them braver. It wasn’t as if he didn’t see the mage every day - Khadgar would come to the barracks and simply sit down in a chair while he worked, tossing out input and suggestions while he intently read up on the arcane, and Anduin himself would often go to the library with no pretenses and begin simply dozing while Khadgar burned his candles down to the wicks. They were friends, he was confident of that much. Close friends. He wasn’t even sure Khadgar had other friends than him and Taria, in fact, if he thought about it.

But they weren’t talking, not about anything personal, at least, and Anduin was afraid of being wrong. He was afraid Khadgar, for all his blushing and awkward fumbling when he was around, simply either did not like men, or did not like him, at least not like that. He had very few people left. Taria, Karos…and Khadgar. The battle at the gate had done more than kill his king, it had also killed a great many of his highest-ranked officers, men and women he had served with for years and considered friends. He was leery of letting romance sour something he was in such need of – a friendship that reminded him so much of the one he’d had with Llane and Medivh.

However, Khadgar did not share his bed, and he missed that – not just the physical, but having someone to say goodnight to and wake up with. Anduin had liked being married, and he’d loved his wife. He had never quite gotten over the loneliness of her loss.

But…if it were building to a point where even Karos was noticing his interest, it wouldn’t be long before Khadgar figured things out, willing ignorance or not.

The All Hallow’s masquerade that night in Stormwind Castle would be the perfect opportunity, Anduin thought, to at least test the waters. He would ask him for a dance, masked as they would be, and if he weren’t interested, he could laugh it off as teasing. Simple enough, he hoped.

If he could only get his damned shirt on.

_By the Light, why did it button in the back?_

Finally he grabbed the first guard he could find in the hall, and pretended not to notice the woman’s ill-concealed amusement at his expense.

#

Khadgar stood nervously in the corner, feeling ridiculous in the outfit Taria had ordered for him. He liked it, though; it seemed perfectly suited to his interest in being there that night. It embarrassed him that he had been so obvious that even the Queen had decided to help, but on the other hand, she was Anduin’s sister, and that was the highest blessing he could ask for. It made him brave enough to show up that night, at the very least.

Across the room, there was no mistaking Anduin Lothar; he wore a flowing cape of tawny fur, his head covered by a magnificent lion’s mask, bejeweled with sapphire eyes, its mouth inset with fangs of silver and its mane threaded through with gold. His boots were fur as well, and tipped with well-crafted lion’s paws. It would take the royal treasury to fund such an outfit, but that notwithstanding, Khadgar would be able to tell the cut of his form anywhere, even if he were dressed as a murloc. He’d spent too much time studying the man with his keen artist’s eye.

Two women dressed as naga – though he had never seen naga to be so shapely, and who had breasts that could be shown off in glittering brassieres – had sidled up to the Commander and were trailing their hands over the fur of his jerkin. He could hear Anduin’s laugh from across the room.

Suddenly, coming didn’t seem like such a wonderful idea. He caught sight of the refreshment table, laden with pitchers and punch bowls of alcohol, and realized that perhaps he hadn’t given drinking enough of a try.

“Can I get you something?” A sultry, and extremely _male_ voice suddenly asked.

Khadgar looked up into the face of a dragon. The mask was ornate; covered in individual shining metal scales, eyes that were rubies, a tongue that was silver and curled at the tip. He could just make out the sparkle of brown human eyes deep in its open mouth.

“That’s wonderful craftsmanship,” he said, eyeballing the work that went into it, observing each grommet and carefully hidden stitch.

The man gave a low chuckle. “I made it myself.”

“Did you!” Khadgar was impressed.

Somehow, the man had gotten closer to him. Khadgar backed up a step. “Are you an artist, then?”

The man was back in his space. “A tinkerer. A hobbiest.”

Nervously, Khadgar’s eyes flicked to Anduin, behind the man. The Commander, though his face was hidden, seemed to be turned toward them. The two naga had disappeared, and the man was leaning against the wall with one leg propped up, drink in hand.

The man trailed a hand over Khadgar’s chest. “The feathers on this are amazing,” he said. “It must have cost a fortune. Would you care to dance?”

“Um…”

“Khadgar! There you are. You look exactly how I imagined,” Taria’s voice came from the mask of a white owl, beautifully feathered, its eyes inset blue gemstones. Her feathered dress matched her face, and sparkled when she moved.

“Your Highness,” the dragon said, bowing and moving away.

“Have you seen Lothar yet?” Taria asked lightly, but followed Khadgar’s gaze to the wall. “Ah, I see.” Though he couldn’t see her face, somehow he heard the frown. “You’re inseparable any other time,” she said, gaining a bit of humor back to her voice. “Why are you not speaking with him now?”

Khadgar shifted uncomfortably on his feet.

“Go on,” she said, taking him by the hand and all but casting him into the throng of people in the middle of the room, dividing him from where Anduin stood. He had to dodge and spin to avoid the merrymakers dancing in pairs through the crowd.

“Oh!” Someone cried as he tried to get his bearings. “How marvelous.” A hand trailed down his arm. The voice was female, and when he turned, he saw the most scantily-clad wolf he had ever seen in his entire life. The woman wore fur coverings that were basically straps holding up a long pelt skirt. Her breasts were high and firm, and entirely visible.

Not that he was interested.

"Let me see if I can't guess who you are," the woman said, looking him over.

He shifted on his feet, his eye on the glimpses of Anduin he could see through the crowd.

She squeezed his arm. "Not a warrior, then," she said, amusement in her voice. "But warriors can be very hard to be close to. Too tough, too gruff." She pressed herself a little closer. "But you are here, so you must be a friend of the royal family," she mused. "A courtier, perhaps? You seem too young, but your voice is deep. A son of a courtier? A visiting relative?"

Khadgar laughed. "My lady, I would be happy to just tell you."

"Where's the fun in that?" He could hear the pout through the mask.

He blinked at her then, not that she could see it. He didn't have a neat answer for that question - anything truthful would be too harsh, anything less than would seem like he was flirting back.

"Ah, my wild beast," a man's voice said, "You found the very one I had my eye on."

Khadgar turned and was less than shocked to see the dragon from before flanking him. "Are you together?" He asked however, surprised by that revelation. 

"What are parties for, but to expand your horizons?" The man said grandly, waving a taloned hand. Beneath the clever dragon's claws, Khadgar could see pale skin and nimble fingers. A member of the court, perhaps.

The man’s question had Khadgar blushing at long last. He looked over. Anduin was gone from the wall, and his heart fell.

"Who do you keep looking for, hm?" The wolf asked lightly.

"N..no one." He stuttered, mortified to be caught out. It would be all over the castle by morning if she figured him out, and then he'd never be able to look Anduin in the eye again.

She trailed her finger down her partner's chest and over his flat stomach. "Surely they can't offer more than we can. No matter what you're interested in."

"You're so brazen!" Khadgar laughed finally, amazed that they weren't even trying to be subtle. He wasn't worried about them - any true threat and he'd have them against the wall in a heartbeat, trapped by the arcane. He had been studying hard, and knew several different ways of immobilizing targets, not just the paltry one or two he had left the Kirin Tor with.

_...was it normal to be thinking like that, over harmless flirtations?_

He had spent too much time on the run, he realized. His flight-or-fight instincts were too well-honed, and anyone who seemed to want to trap him seemed like a threat to his raw nerves.

"Most people like that about us," the woman commented.

"Ah, you've found my gryphon. I thought it might have gotten out of the stables," a familiar and welcome voice cut through their conversation.

The two party goers parted with deferential bows, revealing Anduin standing behind them.

When they straightened, it was the man who spoke. "I see. Please forgive us, Lord. We didn't know who we had set our sights on."

“You should have said you weren’t interested,” the woman-wolf tutted. “Guardian. Do I have it right?”

Khadgar cleared his throat. “Uh. Uhm. Yes.”

"Dangerous tastes, Sir Alicar," Anduin commented from his lion's mask. "Gryphons can be very fierce when threatened."

The wolf and the dragon seemed to exchange glances, despite their covered features, and moved away arm in arm.

"Were they bothering you, spell-chucker?"

"Harmless," Khadgar scoffed, but he was alarmed to notice his heart was beating faster in his chest.  "'Your' gryphon?" He huffed out a laugh.

_Don't get your hopes up,_ he warned himself. _Just teasing, as always._

Anduin reached out and pet Khadgar's full headdress, tapping him on his crafted beak, just exactly as he would his true mount. Khadgar found himself wishing that he could feel the other man's touch.

"And who were you looking for, out here in everyone's way?"

"Is it so hard to believe I was going to dance?" Khadgar said, thinking that yes, that was extremely hard to believe.

"Do gryphons know how to dance?" Anduin's voice was teasing.

Khadgar tapped his gloves, shaped like lion's paws and a mirror of Anduin's, against his leg. "I've studied the forms in books," he admitted. He had had a slightly romantic streak when he had been younger, alone and wistful in his rooms at Dalaran.

"Of course you have," Anduin laughed. "Show me."

"...what? Beg your pardon?"

Anduin leaned in, muzzle to beak, so he could finally see the man's face in the darkness of the mask's mouth. His sharp blue eyes were twinkling. "Show me, bookworm. Dance with me."

"Well.”

“Are books good for nothing?” Anduin was laughing at him. “How much time you waste, then.”

“All right, all right." He took Anduin's hands, but the man snorted.

"You have me in the woman's position."

"Oh, and you'd rather me take it, I suppose?" Khadgar snorted. "I only studied the man's. For...obvious reasons."

"It's always good to know both sides of a venture," Anduin rejoined. "Let's do another, then. The Rut'theran waltz. Do you know it? There are no roles in that."

Khadgar shook his head.

"Then I'll teach you," Anduin said. His voice had taken an oddly low, musing note. He repositioned their hands.

There were several mishaps, too much laughter from naga, nightsabers, parrots, and hippogryphs, and many missed steps. Finally, though, Khadgar seemed to catch on, and he and Anduin whirled through the throng of partiers around them.

The song ended too soon for his tastes. Anduin had maneuvered them toward a wall, and was leaning against it, the jut of his hip and easy slope of his shoulders so painfully dear and familiar.

"We moved well together," Anduin commented lightly, but there was a note there, more serious, trembling just beneath.

"Fighting is something like dancing," Khadgar mentioned. "Partnering with someone else. In both cases, you have to anticipate the other person's moves, and desires."

"And desires." Anduin's voice was amused.

Khadgar coughed. "Y...yes. I meant their intentions. Their, I m-mean..."

"Khadgar. Come with me," Anduin said then, and led them into the empty hallway.

To Khadgar's surprise, the regent removed his mask. His face was flushed and his eyes were happy, but again, there was that note of something else in their depths.

Khadgar fumbled with his until Anduin let out a huff and helped him unstrap it from behind.

"There are many things like dancing, bookworm," Anduin said, with a flash of his teeth. "Talking, sometimes, for one."

Khadgar looked over his face with wide eyes. "We talk."

"Do we?" Anduin tilted his head. "About war, and the fel, and Karazhan."

The man's voice was somewhat pained, incongruous with their light discussion. Khadgar suddenly focused his gaze.

In a flash, he realized he'd been blind. 

He'd been watching Anduin get better, he thought. The warrior drank less, talked more, smiled more.

...around him.

Boldly, he took a step forward. Anduin, for a moment, looked deathly afraid before recovering his smile.

"Not everything can be said with words," Khadgar said lightly, and kissed him, heart in his throat, hoping his usually-correct intuition and observational skills hadn't failed him.

They hadn't. Anduin gripped the back of his head, growled and threw off his cumbersome gloves, then threaded his real fingers through Khadgar's hair, drawing him in closer.

Khadgar moaned without meaning to, and relaxed, parting his lips for Anduin's tongue when asked. Anduin backed him into the wall, and he could feel entirely too little of the body pressing against him underneath the thick costumes.

Like dancing, he thought dazedly, practice would help. But Anduin didn't seem to mind his inexperience.

They broke apart, both smiling and tousled. Anduin brushed a thumb across his cheek.

"I was afraid I was wrong, Khadgar."

"And you've lost too many people," Khadgar pointed out. "You were afraid of losing me, too."

"Yes." The word was spoken throatily in a voice that was unused to being honest about emotion.

"That won't happen. I'm the Guardian. My place is by your side, Anduin."

That seemed to take the words right out of the other man's mouth. He worked his lips while Khadgar watched, amused. After so many times that Anduin had made him embarrassed or at a loss for words, it was nice getting him back.

"...what else have you studied, spell-chucker?"

Khadgar blushed, but grinned. "Quite a lot. But there is something to be said for hands-on practice." He paused, raising a challenging eyebrow at Anduin. "And a good teacher."

He watched in delight as Anduin's face lit up with a warm, wicked smile, and began thinking about all the ways he could keep it there as the man swooped back in for another kiss.

Books _were_ good for something, thank you very much, and he’d prove it.

 

 


End file.
